Loyal Heart
by Brenton Ashworth
Summary: There are two sides to every coin. But will the other side shine brightly enough to shed light on the years of midnight Severus had been immersed in? Called to the headmasters office in the dead of night, he'll soon find out.
1. Never Good News At Midnight

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, as should be obvious. They belong to a brilliant woman by the name of J. K. Rowling.

Enjoy the revised versions of ch1-ch4.

Loyal Heart

Ch. 1

Never Good News At Midnight

The corridor was dark and cold. A slight draft, a lonely sigh from beneath some long forgotten door pulled at Severus' black cape. It made the edges swirl like tidewater as his billowing form glided down the hall. His hollow, echoing footsteps were the only indication he was not a shadow.

His expression was stern, his fists clenched at his side. A midnight call to Dumbledore's office never heralded for good news. He had made the trek far too many times before and had more often than not returned a different man.

He rounded the last corner and proceeded down the moon-drenched hall to the headmaster's chamber, stopping before the gargoyle. "Lemon Drops," he said rolling his eyes. He hated the old man's passwords. As he waited for the stone beast to move aside he glanced out the window and glared up at the moon. It was entirely too bright for times as grim as these. Entirely too bright. With a last parting glower he moved swiftly up the exposed spiral of stairs.

Before he could lift his hand to knock on the heavy oaken door, a kindly voice called "Come in Severus," and the it swung graciously open.

"You sent for me headmaster?" he said with as little expression as possible. "Indeed I did. Do sit down." Snape made his way across the office and settled himself stiffly into a chair opposite the old man, bracing himself for whatever news lay ahead. _What will it be tonight?_ he thought. _Another assignment to drop in on the Death Eaters over the weekend? Huh, as if I were some messenger boy... Or perhaps something about the new potions master? Yes, that could be it. _

Albus would surely let him have some say in the selection process. He had to admit, the fact that his expertise were being called upon was rather flattering. And, after all, with his new and long coveted position as the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his name. "Severus, before I explain anything I must remind you that there are two sides to every coin."

Not a promising beginning to the conversation but surely salvageable.

"As you know, I value you both as a brilliant teacher and an old friend."

Getting better.

"And despite what some may say I know you to be a very giving man and prone to self-sacrifice when it comes to the greater good."

Not getting better.

"Which brings us to why I have summoned you here at this late hour. I know you will help me save a life tonight."

Dangerously not better!

"That being said, I am sure you will accept when I ask that you return to your position as Potions Master…" Dumbledore did not have the chance to utter anything further.

"What?" Snape hissed, standing so quickly that he nearly knocked his chair over backwards. "This is an outrage, Sir. I have taught at this school for more than a decade, all the while working towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. After all that time it was finally promised to me. And now, the night before the commencement of the school year, you decide to demote me?"

"My dear professor, this is no demotion," Dumbledore stated evenly, unflustered by the sudden tirade. "We simply have need of you elsewhere. You are the best potions master this school has ever seen. It is my firm belief that you are invaluable to us in any position."

"And it was my firm belief that when I walked into your office it was because you had called for the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And yet, to my great dismay, I seem to have mistaken."

"No, no, I sent for her as well," the old man said placidly.

Severus didn't hear however. He was still fighting the idea of returning to his old post. "I should have known. There's never good news at midnight," Snape growled. "If you would at least grant me this; who better to teach the Dark Arts than I? I have seen first hand exactly what my students will be up against. Often, with all due respect, thanks to you, Sir. I would love to see who you consider to be my alternative."

"I thought you might," said the headmaster calmly. His blue eyes twinkled as he lifted a hand to indicate the door. In midst of his outpourings Severus hadn't heard it open.

He turned and saw a familiar form. His fierce expression turned to one of blindsided shock. His heart skipped a beat, his pulse began to race and his jaw went slack. For the first time in seven years his gaze was returned by two fiery, crystalline eyes. They were set like gems into her cream colored face; a face he had memorized so well in their last moments together. "Gelladrin…" Her name was all he could utter, his voice reduced to something barely above a whisper.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "That Severus, is the other side of the coin."


	2. Heartbreak By Dusk

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, as should be obvious. They belong to a brilliant woman by the name of J. K. Rowling.

Also: Please Review!

Loyal Heart

Ch 2

Heartbreak By Dusk

"I…I..." Snape stammered almost inaudibly. Thoughts ran through his mind like water as he tried to find words.

_I…I what? I've missed you? I hope you're well? I hate you for never letting me know if you were alive or dead for seven years? I, what?_

"You…" he managed.

_You WHAT!? You've put me through Hell? You've no idea what you've missed? You've just shown up in time to steal my promotion? You lousy…_

The internal debate was cut short by the sound of his name, made hazy by the touch of her voice. "Severus," she said sweetly and beamed a greeting smile. She was like the sun. And for the first time in a long while it felt like dawn. But as the sun rose within him, it began to burn. So many memories, painful ones, began to stir. This sort of sunrise never failed to bring heartbreak by dusk. It would not, could not happen again.

Dumbledore broke in shortly, bringing the room back to business. "As you may already know, there are those at the ministry who would find it most convenient if she were dead."

"I had an inkling," said Severus swiftly sinking into the shadows sarcasm. "But until now I could not be sure she wasn't." He fixed her with an icy stare. She looked slightly confused by his reaction but seemed to dismiss it in light of Dumbledore explanation.

"I am afraid her past has been blown very much out of proportion. She and a few other high ranking aurors were framed for the killings in Canterbury some seven years ago during the Auror's Strike. They refused to follow the orders that lead to the deaths. But another party, likely the early Death Eater's, carried them out in their stead.

"I was as aware of the Aurors' Strike then as I am today, Sir. However I don't see why Ms. Grimstone did not return from hiding for a trial and prove her innocence, as surely she is innocent." Snape spat with righteous anger.

"You do know I can hear you? You're talking like I'm not even here, Severus, " Gelladrin said, indignant after his outburst. "I think you of all people should know I'm innocent. You were the one who told me to run. Now you want proof?"

Snape was ready with a biting retort but was halted as Dumbledore continued to explain.

"Gelladrin, please." The old headmaster held up a placating hand. She settled uneasily into silence. "There is no doubt of your innocence in this room, I assure you. Severus, you must consider that certain corrupt members of the Ministers personal cabinet have gone as far as false documentation to build their case against her. And I must say that it is a decently convincing guise. It took me weeks to find its flaws. Luckily, with some questionably legal help from Arthur Weasley and much filibustering on my part, we've managed to throw them off her trail for the time being. However, a momentary victory by is by no means the end of the war. They're watching, Severus. Every boarder. Every crossing. All enchanted to alert them to her presence. There is nowhere else to run. Except perhaps Hogwarts."

Snape began to pace, searching his mind for a point to argue."What do you expect the parents will say to this? They will not be half as welcoming to one whom the Ministry has made out to be a monster," he protested, shooting her another cold sideways glance.

"We do have the advantage of secrecy. It's only recently come to the Ministry's attention that she wasn't as dead as they had hoped. The fact that one woman has managed to elude their best and brightest for seven years is quite embarrassing to them," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "They are keeping the whole matter well under wraps. The public hasn't heard a word, so we shouldn't expect much trouble from the parents."

"And I'll be teaching under my sisters name," Gelladrin chimed in. Her voice was quite like a chime. "Seeing as her death was so long ago, and also perhaps because we've stolen several files that would prove it occurred, it shouldn't be obvious to the Ministry that I'm not who I say I am. Though she said it as optimistically as she could, it did not break the tension in the room. She began to feel the rising tide of doubt.

The moment she had laid eyes on him her heart leaped. And though she knew he never would have shown it, she had hoped to see some trace of the same excitement in him. However, as the moments passed that hope seemed increasingly futile. The initial shock on Severus's face hadn't melted into gladness. Instead he'd turned cold and accusatory. He paced like a caged animal.

They hadn't seen each other in so long, far longer than she had expected. She knew she would miss him; he was a dear friend. But for some reason his memory had given her pause over the years more than that of anyone else she had been forced to leave behind. When she had learned that arrangements had been made for her at Hogwarts the thoughts of him became a sort of gnawing excitement in the pit of her stomach. There were many people that she would now be free to see, but there was something about seeing him again…

It seemed a bit silly now but she had taken extra care that morning to look her best. She hadn't bothered with her usual dulling charms. Being half Veela the only time she ever spent in front of a mirror was to disguise her beauty. It prevented staring and allowed her some camouflage in crowds. But today she had wanted to be noteworthy. Today she had taken extra care to comb her white-gold hair smooth so that the waves hung neatly down her back against her favorite green dress. Stunning. Yet he was clearly upset by her. What was this hostility? How had he become so so bitter? From across the room she could feel icy anger rolling off him like fog of the sea. After all these years, where was her friend?

_He's just shocked, she assured herself silently._

_He's shocked and doesn't know what to say is all. He never was one for surprises. It's alright. He's still the same man, isn't he? ...Isn't he?_

"On the staff roster she will be listed as Gellinia Grimstone," Dumbledore proclaimed.

"This is going too far," Severus argued. "Headmaster, you cannot allow her to stay."

"There is no other option, Severus. No one else will have her."

"And with good reason. She stole Ministry files in order to gain a position that, unbeknownst to me, was already guaranteed to her," he added with a sharp glance in her direction. "Theft of official documents? She's building a case against herself and you suggest we associate ourselves with it. There is only one outcome of such a ridiculous venture. She will be brought down and take Hogwarts with her."

As time progressed, Severus was becoming less and less appreciative of her return. He had laid awake so many nights since she disappeared wondering if she was still breathing, if she was hurt or needed help…if she was happy. She hadn't bothered to clue him in to anything. Now, just as he had been gaining some control over the pangs of loss that still haunted him, she was back, wondrous and beaming. All the pain came rushing back, reminding him just how dark his world had become. And to top it all, she was there to take out from under him in less than a day what he had worked all those lonely years to earn. The Defense Against the Dark Arts post.

The fury must have been seeping from his pores. The old headmaster began to look Severus over curiously. "Ms. Grimstone, may I have a word with Professor Snape alone, please?" "Of course," she answered and courteously slipped from the room to wait in the hall.

Severus did not turn to see her go. Their time to talk would have to come later.

As soon as the door shut behind her, the conversation took a new tone. "Severus," Dumbledore began but was interrupted.

"You can't," Snape said with a tinge of desperation. "You can't do this. Headmaster, many people count on Hogwarts as a stronghold, including Potter. If she is found here, which only becomes more likely with time, the Ministry will close our doors."

"Severus," Dumbledore reiterated firmly.

Snape did not hear over his own voice, which was growing in volume and agitation. He could feel something beginning to boil inside him. Something like panic. He knew that if this interview lasted much longer he would lose control. The only thing that had been keeping his temper in check was his massive effort to maintain a lack of expression, and he was becoming less collected by the second.

"That is, if all of the students are not withdrawn within the first week. If you keep her here we mind as well tie Potter with a bow and hand him to the Dark Lord."

"Severus," The Headmaster stood up from his chair with an heir so commanding that Snape fell silent. "I am sorry but the time for debating the subject has long since passed. I know you are angry with me and I am sure at the moment you do not feel I am deserving of a favor,"

Snape scoffed. _That is to say the least an understatement,_ he thought.

"So I must ask you not to see it as such. See it as a favor to her,"

Snapes fists clenched once again.

"She is an old friend of yours and I am sure she would do the same for you in an instant what it has taken this entire conversation to request of you."

Severus held his stony silence. His brow furrowed.

_For me? How foreign the thought would be to her. She couldn't be bothered when a simple word was all I asked. And now I'm to believe she would do the same?_

After a tense moment or two, the room relaxed and the headmaster perched easily in his chair once more. "The decision has been made," he said.

"Than why call me here?" Severus snarled suddenly. "You could just as well let me show up to the Dark Arts room in the morning to find it occupied. I would have found it out myself and at a decent hour."

"A woman's life is at stake, Professor." The old wizards' voice filled the entire office, knocking Severus's very words clean out of the air.

"I worry for the lives of the students and the safety of the school!" Severus snapped.

"Is it truly their safety that you worry for Severus? Or is it for the safety of your own heart?"

Snape choked on his next words. He could muster no response to such insight. The blaze in his eyes dimmed to embers and he shifted his gaze away from the headmasters' knowing stare. Seeing he had made his point, Dumbledore continued casually.

"If you would please escort our new professor to her chambers."

Severus didn't even nod. With one smoldering glance to acknowledge the order, he spun on his heel and left in a whirl of black, his robes swirling like tidewater.


	3. Of Things Remembered

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, as should be obvious. They belong to a brilliant woman by the name of J. K. Rowling.

Oh! And please review!

Loyal Heart

Ch. 3

Of Things Remembered

The door could not have swung open fast enough to suit him. As soon as there was room enough for him between the wood and the wall he slithered through the crevice and was gone.

_I should have known. It was far too perfect. Damn it, I should have known!_

But how could he have? The likelihood of her return had been so infinitesimal, so hopelessly small, that even he had begun to convince himself that it was impossible. And now of all times? It seemed not a month before tonight he would have killed to see her one last time. Perhaps the idea had been so pleasing because it was unattainable. Now that it had in fact been attained, the dreamlike quality had fallen flat. The ethereal fog that had made the memories of her so soft had vanished completely, leaving him with only sharp reality and the distinct feeling that he had been betrayed.

She had left the headmasters office in a daze. After gliding down the stairs and out from behind the gargoyle she was once again greeted by the moonlit hall from whence she came. She moved towards the window and stood looking out into the night. The grounds were a carpet of velvet green that swayed slightly in the breeze, hypnotizing her in a way that made her recall the night of her escape. She had awoken to the sound of someone banging so furiously at her door she thought it might come down. It had been Severus, and in a state she had never seen. The look on his face was one of ill-masked panic. He had known they were coming. She could still remember the way she had thrown her arms around him, still remembered the sound of his pounding heart.

After the promise of a swift return she had departed, leaving him alone on the porch. Though she knew the danger of it, she allowed herself a last look back before evaporating into the trees. He stood looking after her, as silent and motionless as the empty house behind him. Though, when she looked back on her last image of him she could have sworn that one foot had taken a step, one step down the stairs, as if he had begun to follow. Had she really thought he would stay still? Unchanged, as if he were some kind of statue? How silly….

Moonbeams fell softly on the stone floor around her, pensive and delicate, hushing the corridor with a lullaby of light. The gargoyle slid aside a second time and she was shaken from her reveries. She turned swiftly and saw him, perfectly still save for the sway of his robes, his face the picture of disdain. The seven year silence was over. It was time to talk.

By the time he heard the heavy oak door close behind him he was already half way down the spiraled steps, his angry strides eating up two stairs at once. He knew she would be at the bottom, waiting. He didn't know if he could stand to look at her. The night she left she had promised she'd come back. Promised him! And now, seven years later…Did she even remember? He had been the one to save her. He had gotten wind in the middle of the night that the Ministry was about to make a move. He had warned her. He had made an escape possible in the last moments before they descended upon her house. Their plan had been to wipe out a certain team of elite Aurors' who were accused of going rogue and killing a dozen muggles. Gelladrin was a prominent member.

There were many in danger, but he had gone directly to warn her. He had apparated through the three well placed layers of defense she had encircling her home, risking discovery and nearly getting himself splinched in the process, just to tell her they were on their way.

He could still see her face when she heard the news, not a twinge of fear. Her eyes held the gleam of a challenge. With a flick of her wand her things packed themselves and vanished. Then she turned and smiled up at him. In that instant he memorized her face. A face he had known since his first year at Hogwarts, a face he had grown up with, grown fond of, perhaps more than fond…And yet somehow he had never grasped its full beauty until that instant.

"Thank you, Severus. You're a good man." With that she threw her arms around him. It was glorious and couldn't possibly have lasted long enough. It would be his last happy memory for the seven years to come. "I'll see you soon. I promise." She ran away then, off into the trees. Words couldn't express how badly he wished to follow her. He took one step in pursuit but stopped as the dark mark on his arm blazed with pain. The Dark Lord called, the Ministry was closing in, and she was gone.

_Enough! _he thought.

This sentimentality would get him nowhere. The best thing was to keep his mind on the present and nothing else. They were worlds apart now. _It's professional, just professional,_ he told himself. He reached the end of the stairs, prepared himself with his most indifferent expression and stepped around the gargoyle.

As soon as Severus reached the hall again he stopped dead in his tracks. It was as if he had hit a wall. His hasty strides ceased completely as his eyes fell upon her. She was overwhelming, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle to speech. Something about where she was standing, how the moonlight hit her hair, the way she suddenly noticed him, looking at him expectantly. He had seen it all before.

_The night when…_ He stopped himself. Those were thoughts too dark for this damned bright hallway.

As he came out of his recollections he realized that there had been a long, tense silence between them. They both stood staring, waiting with baited breath for the others first words. He wasn't going to budge. Luckily he didn't have to. Gelladrin cleared her throat and began.

"Eh-hem…I eh, seem to be a bit lost. Can't seem to find the welcoming committee." Her remark was punctuated by a nervous giggle that faltered and died in the overpoweringly silent hall.

"Pardon me, but were you trying to be funny?" he retorted with as much spite and as he could muster.

"I suppose. Ya know, welcoming committee, no one knows I'm here but you, they won't know 'till tomorrow so how…could they…ya know?"

"Oh. How...ironic."

"Just thought I'd break the ice."

There was another uncomfortable pause where Snape fixed her with his most bitter gaze before stowing past in silence, heading into the darkness of the corridor beyond. He knew she would follow.

"Aaand I see we're frozen solid," she finished and turned in pursuit. "Severus," she began again, running a few steps to close the lead he had gained. "Severus, might I have a word?"

"You have many, I'm sure. None of which I am inclined to hear at present."

"Really? It's been the better part of a decade and you don't think we have something to talk about?" she pried, trotting another few feet to keep up with the distance his massive strides consumed. "I never said we had nothing to talk about. What I said was I didn't want to hear it."

His eyes flicked to one side, delivering yet another pointed sideways glance. She fell silent, slightly taken aback by the sting of his last remark. A few moments passed where she followed quietly and he thought he had won. But alas, she had just been gathering her thoughts.

"Merlins Beard, so many things have changed..." she sighed.

_You wouldn't believe…_he thought to himself as they reached the stairs and stepped onto a flight that began to shift upwards towards the fourth floor. He pleaded internally that she would keep quiet. He couldn't talk. Not then. Her voice alone was nearly too much for him. Everything he'd felt in her absence was bubbling right below the service. One disarming smile, one chime laughter, would surely undo staircase connected with the fourth floor and came to a jolting halt. Severus took a moment to freeze her with another withering look before stepping off and heading for the hall.

"I had sort of hoped that you wouldn't be one of those things...that you wouldn't have changed."

He tried to keep walking but her words were slowing him. He forced himself to keep his eyes forward. To walk away from her as she'd walked away from him.

"I came here for you, you know."

He had been in mid-stride when her words had hit him. He stopped. She had found a chink in the armor that was his stern, unresponsive demeanor.

"It took you long enough," he hissed viciously and pressed on down the corridor. Escape was his only defence now. He was not about to allow himself to crumble in front of her.

"Alright, I've had about enough of this," she chided, catching up to him. Thankfully, she was beginning to sound angry. He couldn't take kind words at the moment, not without revealing too much. But anger he could handle.

"I couldn't have come back. If I had they would have found me and come after everyone I cared about as well. I couldn't risk that, Severus. What if they'd found you? It wasn't just the Ministry that was after me you know. It was the Death Eaters. Why don't you understand!?"

He almost scoffed out loud. How little she knew.

"A sorry excuse if I've ever heard one Ms. Grimstone, and please believe I have heard many," he said rounding the last bend towards the Dark Arts office at such a rate she was practically jogging to keep up.

"Ms. Grimstone?" she repeated. "Since when…Severus stop!" she commanded, jumping in front of him and blocking his way. "Since when are we no longer on first name terms? Never that's when! From the second I saw you tonight you have been nothing but hostile. You practically accused me of the Canterbury murders! Which was a blow so shockingly low I can't even...I'm sorry I wasn't back sooner. Is that what you need to hear?"

"You think I need apologies?" he growled and stepped around her. He swiftly made his way to the door of the Dark Arts office and began to open it, but she was upon him. She pushed the door shut again and leaned against it, clamping one hand tightly on the handle next to his so that it would not budge. "Than what do you need? I've kept my promise haven't I?"

His eyes softened a bit. She remembered? Suddenly he became aware of the feeling of her hand pressing against his on the door handle, side by side. Her hand was warm; heating the iron beneath it and spreading across his skin.

"Thought I'd forgotten the night I left? No. I promised I'd be back and here I am. It may have taken me longer than I thought but I made it. You're not the only one that remembers, Severus."

"Unfortunately not," he said, swiftly withdrawing into anger. "If I were, there would be far less for you to bring up for discussion. Discussion which I do not need to, nor intend to participate in for an instant longer," he said with all the harshness he had left. "Now if you don't mind, my orders were to escort you to your quarters. This I have done. Therefore my obligation to you and your inane chatter is not, at best. Might I suggest we say goodnight?"

Confused, hurt, and more than a little angry, she relinquished her hold on the door. Her fingers ran over his hand as she let go, making him shudder ever so slightly, though he wasn't sure if it was from hate anymore. The door swung away and she stepped inside.

They stood there for a moment, one inside the threshold and one out, suspended and unsure of what came next.

"Well, goodnight then." It sounded so cold and matter of fact. She hated to leave him that way.

He said nothing, and haltingly turned to go. Part of him, something deep and hidden, hoped that she would call him back or say one last thing before the door closed. As if she had heard, she indulged the exiled hope.

"I've missed you," she added.

There were not words for the pain that shot through him at the sound. He paused a moment half turned away and reminded himself to breathe.

_You have no idea…_he thought, and without a backward glance he vanished into the shadows of the early morning hours.


	4. As If There Ever Might Be

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, as should be obvious. They belong to a brilliant woman by the name of J. K. Rowling.

Please review!

Notes:

E.R.U.S. = Elite Responders for Unhandleable Situations, a team of the highest ranking Aurors in the world put together by the Ministry of Magic to handle the unhandleable. They were accused by the Ministry of treason and muggle-slaughter, though the true culprits were the Death Eaters, and now live as wanted men/women.

Voldemorts age: In this story he would be only a few years senior to Snape, having graduated from Hogwarts just a few years before him. Thought I should let you know just in case any of you are really into the chronology.

Cheers!

Loyal Heart

Ch 4

As If There Ever Might Be

He didn't quite remember the walk back to the dungeons. It was all one long rolling blur of corridor after darkened corridor. The next thing he knew he was at the door of his office.

"Sectumsempra" he murmured under his breath. The door swung aside. Things that hadn't been brought to mind in years had been surfacing his entire walk back, and he knew that as soon as he was alone they would overwhelm him. He hurried inside, slamming the door shut as he passed and immediately beginning to pace.

How many times had he worried for her? How many times had he searched the Daily Prophet, The Wizarding World, even the Quibbler for signs of her? How many obituaries had he scoured praying every second he wouldn't see her name? And how many times had he actually thought…

The papers were never decisive on the matter. One month she was declared dead, the next month someone would report that they had seen her. But slowly, Miss Gelladrin Grimstone's whereabouts became old hat. As the readers interest and reported sightings began to dwindle so did the news of her, and so did hope.

The night Gelladrin escaped was a horrendous failure for both the Ministry and the Dark Lord. Both had taken serious losses in their attempts to kill the members of the E.R.U.S.. Many of the hunted aurors had escaped into hiding, including Ms. Grimstone. Though that was enough to flout the Ministry, there were far fewer barriers in the Dark Lord's search. She had been vital in ruining His plans for some time. And he was determined she die.

She had known Him well. They had played together as children before he had gone to the orphanage. A few years after both had finished school at Hogwarts, the two had become engaged. Not of course, because Tom Riddle could be or was ever in love, but rather because she was beautiful, another symbol of his power, a possession.

She had never known what he truly was. She had been under the impression that he had a job at the ministry, investigating the violence of a new group of miscreants called the Death Eaters and their mysterious leader, Voldemort. Little did she know, little did anyone know at the time that he, Tom Riddle and this madman were one in the same. He wouldn't revealed himself as such for years, waiting for the fear surrounding his title to build, for panic to fester and spread, before he showed himself to the world and stepped into the horrific glory he spent so long creating.

All that time she'd never known. But Severus had. He had known for a year by the time she found out. It burned him to think that he had had to sit there and keep his silence while she believed that that murderer was a good man. It had been for her safety, but disgusted him all the same.

Severus had been one of those assigned to look for her after she disappeared those seven years ago. He had done so willingly, often redirecting the rest of the search party so that he might search the places he thought she might actually be. Once the Dark Lords was satisfied that she would not resurface, the searches stopped. However, if she were ever to be seen again, it was His order that she be killed on sight. And if the Ministry happened to catch up to her before He did, the best she could hope for was a life sentence in Azkaban.

At that point all Severus could do was pray he found her first. Years passed this way. After all that time with no sign of her, he had resorted to living newspaper to newspaper. Now he was not only angry at her but angry at himself. This was madness. These thoughts of the past had to stop. They would do nothing for him now. Severus restlessly wandered his office, looking for anything to take his mind away from her. Finally he focused in on his private collection of potions.

He opened the cabinet and revealed rows of gleaming bottles of every color. He began to move them about, rearrange, dust them off…He never realized how many of them were sleeping potions. He had built up immunity to just about every sleeping potion known to man trying to tame the fears that dwelled in the dark. Those nights where he would be on the border of sleep and swear he heard her say his name. He would sit bolt upright and search the shadows for her, for hope. Of course, neither could be found there.

What a fool. What a fool he had been to hold on so long! To care so much! And for what? Nothing. For seven years, nothing and no one. Then on the day of his promotion, there she was to take it out from under him. He had needed her there in those years past. And to up and vanish like that…But blast it, there he was thinking of her again!

He slammed the cabinet doors and resumed his search for something to distract him. The bookshelf! He moved swiftly to it and began reorganizing. He didn't use magic for this task because alphabetizing by hand took more of his attention. After 'A' through 'C' had been completed he came across a copy of Defensive Magic and It's Darker Developments, one of his favorites. But it was not his. He slowly opened the front cover, knowing already what was scrolled there in graceful cursive.

'Property of Gelladrin Grimstone,' he read silently. 'And so help you if you've stolen it.'

It had been one of her favorites too. She had lent it to him a few weeks before she vanished. He had flipped through it's pages so often. Not just to reread, but to see the beautiful scrolling marks in the margins where she had made notes. He liked her handwriting. It reminded him of how she walked; delicate, gliding, sweeping motions that left a mark on him as if he himself were a page in the book.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn! He thought and tossed the book aside.

It seemed she was everywhere he turned. Severus departed from the shelves of volumes and went to his desk, seating himself hastily and throwing open drawers, more determined than ever to get her off his mind. He cursed himself for having such a well kept desk. He needed something, anything, a distraction in any form. He then remembered the false bottom in the middle drawer on the left hand side. He opened it and rummaged about. Old letters, a few rather deadly ingredients that he couldn't risk being found and a picture torn from a newspaper years ago. A picture of her on the last day anyone knew for certain she was still alive. It had been on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

The day after her escape she had turned up once more at the Ministry with the others of the E.R.U.S. who had survived the night. They had come demanding justice; a proper investigation and a trial to prove their innocence. When the Ministry refused and demanded their surrender, they raised hell inside the Ministry for a good four hour before vanishing one by one. She was one of the last to go. The picture was taken as she ran for the front entrance of the Ministry, two guards in hot pursuit. At the top she turned to face them, a rebellious smile on her face and one last trick in her eyes. She winked once and the two towering wooden doors ripped themselves from the hinges and collapsed inwards. The guards threw themselves out of the way. But when they looked up she was gone, apparated away through the gaping hole E.R.U.S. made in their defenses.

As he stared at the torn page, images from earlier that evening wafted back to him. In his minds eye he could see her waiting in the hall outside of the Headmasters office. He had seen it before. The way the moon glinted off her hair, the way she turned to look at him with those expectant eyes, even where she was standing made the recollection of one particular night spring to life. At the time he had tamped the pain down but now alone it began to consume him.

The night that Lilly died Gelladrin had been standing there waiting for him, just as she had tonight, to hear the news. He had managed to collect himself somewhat before descending to meet her. But those eyes, those glorious crystalline eyes seem to pry the truth from him without him having to utter a single sound. She knew. He hadn't needed to tell her anything. It was then, standing there in silence just as they had tonight, that he lost control. In the midst of that profound quiet, he felt as if the floor had opened up beneath him, as if he would fall forever. Though he was barely aware of it, his knees began to buckle beneath him. For an instant the world was devoid of all substance, of all beings and of everything important. He felt nothing save the motion of air breezing past him as he began to crumble, surely destined to fall for eternity. But then, just before he hit the ground he felt two arms around him, catching him, stopping his descent and lowering him gently the rest of the way to his knees. The floor was still there, he had stopped falling and there was someone. Slowly he became aware of whom. His eyes came to focus on Gelladrins face. He opened his mouth as if to speak. No sound came out but how he pleaded.

'_Make it stop! Please, make this not real! Save me from this! Help me!'_

No sound, but she heard him. She could see him drowning. He searched her for any signs of dreaming but there were none. All he could find was yet more confirmation that this wreck was reality. She made no sound, but he heard her. It was all over her face.

'_I am so sorry.'_

With that he broke down, weeping into her shoulder for he couldn't imagine how long. She sat there with him infolded in her arms, silent. She knew that there were no words that could possibly come close to comfort. What was more she had kept that silence. She had never told a soul about that one dark night in the Headmaster's hallway, and they had never spoken of it again.

He had held onto her ever since that night. He knew she was the only thing that had kept him from destruction. Unfortunately he had only come to realize it in her absence. Without her there, no one was. There was no Lily, there was no Gelladrin, there was nothing.

_Nothing!_

His thoughts were punctuated as he slammed his fists down on his desk, the picture of her crumpling in his iron grip. For a moment, all was still and quiet though an inward storm was roaring. He didn't remember rising from his chair, but he found himself standing, leaning heavily on the wooden table before him. He then became aware that he was panting hard and his heart was pounding. God how he wanted to hate her, and oh how he was trying. But alas, he could not.

Tonight would be sleepless, he knew, and tomorrow a very long day. The students would be arriving, pouring through the castle like water and there would be no peace after that.

As if there had ever been, he thought with a smirk. Slowly he unfurled his hand to reveal her lovely face once more. His eyes grew somber as they fell upon her.

As if there ever might be…


End file.
